


All I Need is a Pair of Wheels

by glorious_spoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Slice of Life, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: Dustin has his road test scheduled, but he needs to borrow a car. Steve is pretty sure that's not his problem. Set a few years post-canon.





	All I Need is a Pair of Wheels

“No,” Steve said firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“But—” Dustin began.

“The answer is ‘no’. Doesn’t your mom have a car?”

“It’s in the shop. Steve, _please,_ my road test is in three hours, if I don’t have a car I’ll have to reschedule and it could be _weeks._ ”

“I still don’t see how this is my problem,” Steve said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and starting back toward the car. Out of habit, he shortened his stride, although it wasn’t really necessary these days; Dustin had finally started stretching into a gangly approximation of his adult height, and he kept up easily. He had recently begun cultivating a wispy moustache that made him look vaguely piratical, and his hair was cut so that the unruly curls just brushed the top of his collar in the back, but the irrepressible energy hadn’t changed a bit in the past three years.

Neither had the stubbornness. “Weeks of you having to drive me around everywhere…”

“You do realize that’s not mandatory, right, shithead?”

“You’ve been telling me that for three years, Steve, and yet you still do it,” Dustin said, annoyingly matter-of-fact. “Let’s not kid ourselves here.”

“The attitude is definitely convincing me.” Steve dug in his pockets for his keys as they crossed the parking lot. “Remember that time you backed into a fire hydrant while you were trying to parallel park? Because I sure as hell do.”

“That was _one_ time.”

“The answer is still no. Even if I did trust you not to wreck my car, which I don’t, I have plans tonight.”

Dustin pulled a tragic face, wide-eyed and pouting. “Please?”

“No. And stop with the puppy-dog eyes, man. That might work on Mr. Clarke, but not on me,” Steve informed him, unlocking the trunk of his BMW and tossing his bag and Dustin’s in. “I’m immune.”

Dustin’s pushed-out lower lip began to tremble. Steve rested his elbows on the roof of the car and raised his eyebrows at him until he pulled it back in, shrugged, and said, unrepentant, “Worth a try, dude.”

“You’re a goddamn conman, Henderson,” Steve said, amused and reluctantly fond. By college, that kid was gonna be hustling his entire dorm out of their life savings. And then probably spend it all on lab equipment, the geek. “Get in the car or I’m leaving you here.”

* * *

He dropped Dustin off at home, still protesting all the way up the front walk about disloyalty and misuse of Party equipment.

“It’s _my_ goddamn car,” Steve told him, stomping on a twinge of guilt before it could take root. “Not that any of you shits ever seem to remember that.”

“I gave you five dollars for gas last week.”

“After I drove all of you to Rosemont for some geek convention.”

“The _Chicago Comicon_ , you mean.” Dustin pronounced the words like they were holy scripture that he’d just caught Steve blowing his nose on. “I told you I could get you in, too.”

“And I told you that I’d rather have a root canal.” Although, given some of the costumes he’d seen outside the convention, maybe he should have rethought that particular stance, not that he was going to admit that to Dustin. Give that kid any sign of weakness and it would all be over with.

“You have no culture,” Dustin said mournfully. “Hey, are you sure I can’t borrow your car?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Good _night_ ,” Steve said, and made his escape before his resolve could weaken.

* * *

He actually did have plans, because he was an actual adult whose life did not revolve around ferrying around a bunch of high-schoolers, at least one of whom actually did have a driver’s license of his own (Lucas, who had turned sixteen back in January, took his road test in March, and had been insufferably smug about it ever since). He dated. He went to parties where everyone involved was of legal age and conversations never devolved into cutthroat profanity-laced arguments over dump stats.

Steve surveyed his reflection in the mirror, then looked at the BMW keys sitting on his dresser, and sighed.

Damn it.

* * *

“Get in, shithead.”

Dustin looked up, blinking, still half-hunched over in the pose of abject tragedy he’d been wearing when Steve pulled up. “What?”

“Get in,” Steve repeated. “Before I change my mind. You have all your paperwork, right?”

Dustin slapped his pocket, his expression turning on a dime from pathetic to elated. “I have it right here. Are you _serious?_ ”

“No, I just skipped out on a party to drive over here and fuck with your head,” Steve said, exasperated. “Yes, I’m serious. Get in.”

Dustin scrambled to open the door. “Steve, you’re awesome, I take back every bad thing I ever said about you, you’re my favorite person in the world.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. “Just remember, Henderson, if you wreck my car I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Sure you will,” Dustin said, and put his head back against the headrest, beaming, as Steve pulled back out onto the road.


End file.
